Such Dark Love
by Daroga's Rainy Daae
Summary: A girl ventures across Louisiana to find the man she loves at Cold Mountain Prison. A story of how even the most heartless person in the world can find love somewhere! Title doesn't make sense 'til last chapter! FINISHED! MAJOR TWIST!!!!!!!!!!
1. Prologue

I did not live until today  
  
How can I live when we are parted?  
  
And yet with you, my world has started  
  
One more day all on my own  
  
One more day with him not caring  
  
I was born to be with you  
  
What a life I might have known  
  
And I swear I will be true  
  
My place is here  
  
One more dawn  
  
One more day  
  
One day more.  
  
~Les Miserables  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Oh, how love can sneak up on you. I didn't even know I loved him until he left... it was such a shock. It's not as if he left to leave ME; I'm not sure he ever knew my feelings for him. He just left for work after graduation...  
  
I was just the schoolgirl in the back of the classroom at our private school; the shy one, the straight A girl, the one who never cheats; Little Miss Perfect; whatever. Little Miss Perfect is a virgin. Little Miss Perfect sucks up to the teachers. Little Miss Perfect never misses a question on an assignment, oh never! Little Miss Perfect has good, well- mannered rich friends (even though all the kids in school are rich). Such a perfect girl she is!  
  
How I hate those remarks! But how they are so true!  
  
But... as "perfect" as I was, I had a dark secret that would ruin my clean little reputation. Oh, it wouldn't be dark to most people I don't think, but I'm Little Miss Perfect, so I can't be the judge. This secret goes back to the man I love; the man I have been mad over since I was a freshman in high school. You want to know the significant darkness of this love? Ooh, I was in love with such an unexpected boy, nobody would ever DREAM that I would take a second look at him!  
  
Percy Wetmore. The snappy, annoying, selfish, evil, rude, most treacherous little monster on the face of this planet. He had feelings for no one, unless you counted himself. He'd been in my class straight since the ninth grade, and his greatest fun was tormenting me. When we were younger, he teased me and taunted me, and all the rest of the class did was laugh as I would run out of the room in tears. When we were older, he cheated off my SAT's, and with my scores was able to get himself a nice job. He was such a... well - Little Miss Perfect can't say what he is, but she can think it!  
  
Why do I love him?  
  
I didn't KNOW I did... You can't control love... It just happens... But I thought when I was rid of him, my life would be so much better! I thought it was the best thing that had ever happened!  
  
More buts...  
  
BUT - there was a part of my schedule missing... I wanted it full! So silent...  
  
BUT - as I sit here and think, he's not there, tormenting me...  
  
BUT - isn't this what I wanted?  
  
BUT - Why aren't I happy? I sure can put on an act when I'm feeling down... what a genuine smile I have! Perfect teeth, you know. Because everything's perfect about me.  
  
I just wish... I just wish I could see him again! I want him here, and I don't know why! Little Miss Perfect wants the devil back! And why...? Because I love him... Ah, yes - but he doesn't love me back, that's for sure. He doesn't love anyone but himself, remember? Him and his hair. I bet his most treasured possession in his pocket comb! I just bet!  
  
I must stop ranting. I know where he works... Just the place for him, I say. He works - at a prison. Cold Mountain Prison... on E block or something, whatever that means. He's got the connections to have something better, but my father said he wants to see someone die in the electric chair. See the bad men be punished. What a poor excuse! He's such an evil man. He deserves the electric chair as much as any crook!  
  
I don't mean that, I don't! I think it, I'll say it, but I really don't mean it! How can I love him and hate him at the same time? What is it about Percy that I love?  
  
I can only recall one time he was ever semi-nice to me... and that was on my birthday my freshman year, when he gave me a flower. Yes, it was nice until I found out he had purposefully picked the flower with the most earwigs in it! I remember that day; I was smelling the flower and a large, ugly bug crawled out of it onto my nose... I remember screaming and batting it off my face, shaking my head as the boys cracked up at their stupid joke. By the time three more fell onto my lap, I had already run from the room, the boys' evil laughter filling my head; Percy's being the loudest. I remember his words to the teacher; "Honestly, ma'am... I just gave her a flower, I didn't know it had bugs in it..." He got away with that one, of course. He always gets away.  
  
Yes, he always gets away... unless his big mouth leads him into trouble. I almost felt sorry for him when his mouth lead him to the dislike of the older boys. He wouldn't stop, though. He continued all the way through high school, and never learned. But there aren't any "older boys" now. His colleagues at work wouldn't hurt him. They're not boys anymore.  
  
The day Percy left on the train to travel across the state to his job, I was there, standing in the crowd of people watching their loved ones leave to places far. Most of them were headed to the army, or further than across the state at least. Yes; Percy was alone when he left on the train.  
  
He thought he was alone.  
  
I watched him tromp up the steps, he seemed excited, but hid his emotions well. To the untrained eye, he looked arrogant, snooty; too GOOD for the others on the train. He had a sneer on his face that said; "I can't believe my uncle didn't let me have my OWN train".  
  
When he took a seat by the window, staring off at the scenery and waiting for the train to leave, I waved. I don't know; my hand shot up into the air and swung back and forth like all the others that weren't leaving. Somehow, he caught sight of me, and I recall letting my arm fall at my side fearfully, tipping my head down in embarrassment. I also recall looking up to catch one last glance at him, and seeing two of his fingers raise slightly in what could have been a wave back, but I wasn't sure, and I'm not sure now.  
  
That was when I finally admitted to myself that I actually loved him. At first - I thought it had been some stupid girly thing. But in that second when he raised his fingers, I glowed. Once the train left, I still stood, cuddling my shawl around my shoulders tightly from the cool breeze, staring at the horizon for a long time after the last caboose made it's way over the hills.  
  
I hadn't even realized I had been standing there for so long, until the railway man told me that the station was closing, and it was getting dark - and that I must be going home. So I did. And I haven't seen him since.  
  
But it'll be different tomorrow. Tomorrow I will take the train myself. I will ride it all the way across Louisiana. I will find him at Cold Mountain Prison. I will confess my love at long last, and hope to God he doesn't laugh at me; this weight has to be off my back, the incredible tension has to leave. Tomorrow; Little Miss Perfect will confess her love for the devil.  
  
  
  
A/N: More chapters? You want more? Do ya? One more? Two more? Ten more? No more?(sob) Your decision, ppls! ENJOY :) 


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: What if I don't want to write one? What will you do? Who's reading my fanfic anyway? I dare you to sue.  
  
Chapter One: Meet Monica  
  
Monica Gilbert, otherwise known as "Little Miss Perfect" stood outside an unwelcoming iron gate which bore the words "Cold Mountain". She stood to the side inconspicuously as cars came in and out through this gate, leaving her to think that she REALLY shouldn't be there at all. It was an unhappy place; she could feel the dirty evil within, and could smell the rotten stink of mold and unwashed men from even where she was. But there was no turning back. Not now, at least.  
  
Monica slipped through the gate after the men who had been holding it opened had left. She didn't want to talk to anyone she didn't have to. Monica wandered around for a while, looking for some sort of a building that would help her distinguish it as E block. She was surprised after only a few minutes of grazing across the mud to find herself in front of a large stone place that had a giant C painted on the side of it.  
  
"If there is a C," she thought, "There must also be an E around here..."  
  
Sure enough, across from the C building, there was a similar one with a D on it, and next to that one, there was an E. Of course it was E block... it made sense.  
  
The girl took up her skirt and trotted across the way to the block she wanted. Silently, she stood outside the door, listening to a conversation that was being held inside...  
  
"Who's training who here?" A voice said.  
  
"That's some smart mouse, Del, like he's a circus mouse or something," someone said. Monica could tell it was a black man from the way he talked.  
  
"A circus mouse! That's just what he is, too! When I get outta here, he's gonna make me rich, see if he don't." The voice sounded as if the owner didn't know much English...  
  
It was now or never; everyone seemed to be in a pleasant mood.  
  
Monica took a deep breath, fiddled with the cold, metal door handle, and stepped inside the room. She shut the heavy door behind her, so as not to seem too intrusive, but the instant she stepped inside, everyone went quiet.  
  
There was silence for a while, then Paul spoke. "Can I help you, ma'am?" Paul asked a little uneasy sounding to her. "Are you lost?"  
  
"No, sir... I'd, uh... I'd like to speak with Percy Wetmore. That is - if he's here..." Monica scouted among the different guards, seeing Percy late only because he was standing behind the tall Brutus. But when his name was said, Percy stepped sideways to check who was talking, and he instantly knew who it was. Nobody spoke.  
  
"You said - you said you wanted Percy? Percy Wetmore? PERCY Wetmore?" Paul raised an eyebrow, but did nothing more when Monica nodded for a yes.  
  
"Monica Gilbert," Percy said as if he were announcing her name for a roll call.  
  
The expressions on the guards faces after this was priceless. Each and every one of them, besides Percy, dropped their jaw and stood dumbfounded. Percy? With a fine girl like that? What a joke! Crazy nightmare! Ha ha ha!  
  
"Boss Percy's got a GIRLfriend!" Del hooted, shaking with laughter. "D'ya see that, Johnny? Le grand mauvais garcon! Ha!"  
  
"Shut the f-" Percy started to shout at Del, but changed his mind, shifting uncomfortably, glancing quickly at the lady, and muttering dangerously, "Shut UP."  
  
Not only were the guards amazed, but they really seemed to think they were dreaming by now. Percy? Given the chance to shout profanities at Del, and not using it? Dean was pinching himself behind his back.  
  
"May I please see you outside?" Monica murmured nervously.  
  
Percy nodded once, his face not changing from it's hard expression. He felt a bit hot with embarrassment for the moment as he trudged across the mile to the door; he was fully aware of everyone's gawking faces, but didn't shout or object. The moment he stepped outside with Monica, the guards rushed to the window, trying to look as unnoticeable as possible. Del rushed for his small mirror.  
  
"I can lip read," Brutus announced. "Let me see."  
  
There was a shuffling as the guards positioned themselves as comfortably as they could around the tiny piece of glass in the wall. Brutus poked his eyes over the rim if the window, and watched Monica talk. Percy was pretty silent the whole time.  
  
"I had to talk with you, the girl says," Brutal informed quickly.  
  
"Yes, but-" Dean started  
  
"Shhh!" the men all silenced him.  
  
"Let Brutus CONCENTRATE," Harry whispered.  
  
"Um, uh - something about... high school," Brutus looked unsure of himself. "And," he said clearing his throat, keeping his eyes on the girl, "Something else about crushing someone..."  
  
"That's all wrong!" Dean objected raspily.  
  
"Shhh!"  
  
"Look, look!" Brutus cried, forgetting to keep quiet. This made everyone trip over each other and become a mad jumble. Percy was slightly pink in the face, and the girl kept muttering. "I can't read that," Brutal pointed, "She's not talking right."  
  
The men all watched as Percy looked at his shoes and muttered something back to her, which caused the girl to nod in understanding. Then she left.  
  
"He - he told her that she couldn't come back because the prison was no place for her, and he said she should go back home," Brutus said in amazement. The other men gasped and stared at each other in silent agreement that saying that was true, but tough.  
  
When the door opened and Percy stepped in, he caught all the guards at the window. They all scrambled up in a feeble attempt to look like they hadn't been doing anything. This made him darken considerably.  
  
"Monic-... that girl... did NOT come here today," Percy told them icily.  
  
"Who?" Harry asked, trying to hide his smile.  
  
"What girl?" Dean said, stifling a guffaw.  
  
"What happens off the mile, Percy," Paul grinned, holding back a laugh, "STAYS off the mile."  
  
And everyone except for Percy, as well Del, burst out into uncontrollable laughter.  
  
  
  
A/N: THERE is more! Aaaaand - there is more of Monica! YAY! Thank you, my first reviewer, Togemon! Thank you for giving me the inspiration to write a mere SECOND chapter! :) :) :) :) 


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: Thank you so much, Togemon, for reviewing the second chapter! Again, you have inspired me to write another! I wish I could repay you by reviewing something of yours, but I haven't read any of the stories you fic about... sorry! I really should... :) ENJOY!  
  
PERCY  
  
How dare Monica Gilbert show up at my work and embarrass me in front of everyone? It's all her fault now that everyone thinks we have something going on between us... Her appearance at the prison was not only irritating, but there was not POINT! Of course I already knew she liked me... anyone could tell. She bugged the hell out of me when we were younger, just staring at me, giving me those sick, soppy smiles of her... And I thought it was just a childhood crush!  
  
What an annoying girl she always was. No wonder the other boys and I couldn't help but tease her as kids... I've been trying to forget about my childhood ever since I ventured across Louisiana to work at the prison. One of the reasons I moved so far was to forget it, and when I'm reminded of that girl, especially her, I feel like just a school mate of hers again, and I hate that feeling! I'm already the youngest one working at the prison besides that idiot bastard Dean, and that doesn't say much.  
  
That faggot Delacroix will be laughing at me 'til he's dead; good riddance! I really hope I get to stand at the front during his execution to watch him die, but my GOD, he'll be pushing his luck up until then. I can't imagine what he'll make me do to him if he goes too far; no doubt I'll have to break a couple more of his fingers... not like it will do anything. A stupid, useless inmate like him couldn't get the picture that I'm in charge from the beginning; so naturally he'll never learn. I'm willing to bet that mouse of his is more intelligent than him.  
  
Such thoughts in my head... I have to get the girl out at least. My thirst to kill that expendable Delacroix helps push Monica further to the back of my brain.  
  
Another perk; a new inmate is arriving today. I'm going to pick him up from the mental hospital... such fun. As if I don't have enough filth to deal with for the time being. The other guards will forget about the Monica incident after the new hellraiser comes; I heard he's a handful. Nothing I can't handle, I bet, but I'm sure he'll prove to be unhappy company for the rest of those idiots working on the mile. If I didn't know better, I'd say they're just as stupid as the prisoners.  
  
Those prison guards had been as territorial and watchful as dogs to me since the first day I came here. I can understand a first day on the job, but when they watch and criticize your every move from then on, it makes you think. Especially that unbearably full-of-shit Edgecomb. He really needs to lighten up a bit, it's not like we're in the army here. He keeps going on about treating the prisoners nice or they'll snap; bull shit. They're about to die anyway, isn't the thought of the chair enough to make anyone snap, already? It's apparent that a little extra bad-treating will do them no harm. If I had intended to be hospitable to people, I would have worked at a hotel.  
  
What's the use? I'm not fooling anybody... my thoughts have not been driven away from that girl since she came by. I try to think about my job, and then I picture that brat in my head. She just has to haunt me; and she only came for five minutes, too! Talk about cursed.  
  
And I can't stop thinking about how everyone's probably going to start making fun of me and her... And they think I like her! And they think we're dating! I've never dated a girl in my life.  
  
Oh, the girl loves me, I didn't think it was for real at first. I didn't WANT it to be real! But I have to admit it to myself!  
  
She loves me! She loves me! She loves me!  
  
I hate her so much, for spoiling my reputation, for making things even harder for me.  
  
I hate her so much, for the embarrassment, for the NEW things the other guards will say behind my back!  
  
I hate her for loving me. And if anyone believes a word I just said, you're the stupidest person alive, and don't deserve to know the truth. The stupid, evil, maddening, rotten, foolish truth. I don't think I can help, but love her back...  
  
Damn me...  
  
  
  
A/N: Eheheh... next chapter will be up soon! Probably! Maybe! Maybe not! It all depends! ........Well....... ENJOY anyway... :) 


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: Togemon, I'll take your advice and read one of those books sometime... thank you for reviewing the third chapter! And... thank you angelofsin for your nice review to this story! Don't stop the progress! I think I'm on a role. Two reviewers! ENJOY!! :):):):)  
  
MONICA  
  
He doesn't love me.  
  
I really did know it... I wasn't expecting anything different. I spilled my heart to him and he told me to leave. Typical. I don't feel anything. Maybe it takes a while for the numb feeling to wear off before heartbreak starts. I hope it won't hurt too much.  
  
But I still want to be around him... Just his presence is comforting. What would it take to be around him? How could I manage that? I would never try to make him do anything against his own will, and he wants nothing to do with me, so anything concerning us is pretty much hopeless.  
  
Hopelessness. What a horrible feeling. Feeling nothing at all is worse. But that's feeling something then, isn't it?  
  
Maybe I do feel something. Maybe I'm losing myself.  
  
I would do anything to have him here. I would do anything at all. Love is an obsession. You cannot just tell yourself not to love somebody. I wish I could control it. I wish I could love somebody closer to home. I wish I could love somebody else. But I can control nothing. And I love Percy Wetmore.  
  
If I can't have Percy here, I'll just have to go to him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"And your name is?"  
  
Monica sat in a room in front of a large, jaunty man in plaid, who leaned back casually in his chair at a desk. He sucked on a cigar between his teeth while he talked, and he had the oddest glare...  
  
"Monica Gilbert," she replied confidently.  
  
"And what experience do you have?" the man asked.  
  
"Three years on the Abbeville police force," Monica lied truthfully, letting her eyes wander to a paper with the name Tim Hoover across it. "Tim Hoover, was it?"  
  
"Pleasure to meet you," he said carelessly. "And you completed the training course?"  
  
"Um, yeah... I have my record right here." Monica gave Tim the paper that told her time of completion for the obstacle course she had to go through in order to have the chance to meet with Mr. Hoover.  
  
Two days after she had her confrontation with Percy, Monica had decided to try to join the police force at Cold Mountain Prison. And it wasn't easy. She went there first to find out the requirements for the job, then typed up her resume. After that, she went to one man, who directed her to someone that could time her for the obstacle course. In high doubts, the timer had set her off, and she did a remarkable job. Monica always was pretty athletic, thank God. After the timer jotted down her scores, she went to Tim Hoover.  
  
"Erm.. right," Tim mumbled as he did a little double take after reading Monica's time. "Remarkable for a woman... Yes, well - you did come at a good time. Just yesterday two of our policemen quit the job; moving across the country I hear. Better benefits. To me, that's a load of dung. You won't find any better benefits there than here, and if you do, it's a scam! A scam, I tell you."  
  
"Ah yes," Monica agreed, nodding politely, but scooting inconspicuously further away all the while.  
  
"What the hell, you got the job," Tim grunted, leaning forward to shake Monica's hand. "I'm desperate. Not that I just need you here for desperation... not at all. We'd like to be a model police force, and how greater than with a few women on the team? Yes, it's not too common, and the first women with legal arresting rights was what, merely twenty years ago? Things are progressing slowly, but mark my words, there will be more of you coming along later. And I'll be there to tell them so."  
  
"Sorry," Monica murmured as she took his hand and he shook her arm rather violently, "But tell who so?"  
  
"The press, o' course!" Tim bellowed. "The press! They deny the rights of women, which I respect, see. I think with a bit of practice and experience, women could be as great as men around here! I'll start you with a nice guarding job; nothing fancy. Perfect to start you off. We'll give you B block; the people there are mighty nice. The prisoners really did nothing too raunchy... no, not like those freaky inmates on E block."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Monica sighed, pulling her hand out of Tim's sweaty grasp. "I won't let you down."  
  
"There's a good girl!" Tim guffawed, showing her the door. "Now, I'll get Jerry to show you your desk; the one our last man on B block left behind when he went off to California. If you favor desks next to cells, you're in luck. You can keep an eye on those inmates all right. I think Jerry could lend you some of his books if you get bored, but I'm sure you have some of your own... I don't suppose a lady like you enjoys poker, now."  
  
Monica just blinked. She didn't know how to respond.  
  
"Okay, then!" Tim clapped once. "You can pick up a uniform down the hall, room 12 - you can't miss it. The door is red. There's a guy there named Bud, he can find you a nice small one. You can start your work tomorrow. We'll give you a schedule for work."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Monica repeated as she was shown out the door a second time.  
  
Striding down the hall, she knew she would like her new job. If she ever ran into someone she knew - which she was bound to, she would probably love it. She would probably love her job very much...  
  
  
  
A/N: Interesting, eh? My first thought for Monica was for her to kill someone and then go to prison for it, but then I figured if I went through with that, it wouldn't be realistic at all. Not to go into too much detail, I decided to make the story a more happy one and go with the idea of Monica working at Cold Mountain Prison. And by the way; just so you know, the first woman on a police force to legally arrest someone, did so in 1911. I think. Eheheh. ENJOY!! :) :) :) 


	5. Chapter Four

Monica stood in front of the bathroom mirror of her hotel room in the uniform shirt and a regular skirt. She held the pants out in front of her, surveying them. Truthfully, this was the closest she'd ever been to a pair of them, let alone having to put some on.  
  
"Can't be much harder than underwear," she decided logically, slipping her skirt off and pulling the pants up her legs. When she began to lose her balance, she threw out her hand to catch herself against the wall, fumbling with her feet to get the pants all the way up. When Monica finally zipped and buttoned them up, instantly she knew which she preferred to pants or skirts.  
  
These pants were stiff (nothing a good washing couldn't fix), but the immobility was like a lock on her leg freedom. Of course, Monica realized that pants were an essential part to the outfit, so she had to live with them. She knew that after a while, she'd have to get used to this uniform.  
  
And, she reminded herself, this was for Percy.  
  
She hadn't gotten any guns (perhaps she wouldn't at all?), or a baton, or for that matter, any gear; but she decided that as a newbie, she wouldn't be getting that stuff quite yet. If not at all in the time that she worked there. Monica only had one goal, and she wasn't sure how long it would take to reach it. Just now, she wasn't sure if it would take a day, or ten years.  
  
Whatever.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
MONICA  
  
I entered the door to B block in my uncomfortable pants. Just that morning I had washed them three times; all the way up until I left for my first day on the job. Washing did absolutely NOTHING. For someone who's never worn pants before, I noted that I WAS pretty good at covering up the abnormality.  
  
"You look mighty comf'table in them pants there, ma'am, for a lady."  
  
I looked to the source of the voice, which came from a stack of books on top of a desk. It was a man's voice, of course, but I couldn't see who it was; his head popped back around the mountain of books. The desk was so cluttered, that the man was completely hidden behind his stacks of... things.  
  
"Sir?" I inched my way closer to the desk.  
  
"Sorry," the man said jovially, wrapping his arms around the books and pulling them into his lap so that I could see him.  
  
He was a semi-handsome guy, and his visage hardly matched his voice. Of course, I have a strange attraction to strange men, so he didn't bother me a bit. His face was a little whiskery, it seemed, from lack of time to shave, no doubt. There were faint traces of darkness under his eyes - probably for some personal reason, but other than that, his features were youthful. I guessed he was in his mid-twenties.  
  
"I'm Jerry Muller," he said with energy, reaching his hand across the desk surface, which was now swiped clean.  
  
"Monica Gilbert," I replied, taking his hand. He shook it almost as hard as Tim Hoover had; it seemed to be a prison-guy thing, I guessed, to shake hard.  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Tim's told me we were getting a new guard... didn't know they was going to be a SHE, but that's no problem with me," Jerry said sincerely. "There's your desk," he said, pointing at an empty one to the far wall of his. "You can just make yourself at home there. The other B block guy is on his lunch break; there's only one more. We don't need too many guards around this block," Jerry explained.  
  
"What's his name?" I asked, glancing around the building. I immediately realized how much larger this place was than E block. There were only six cells there, but here there were at least a dozen lining the walls. It seemed the whole place was a perfect rectangle. To the far left was Jerry's cluttered desk, the far right was what was going to be my desk, and at the end of the corridor, was a third desk, I was guessing to be the other guys'. We were all set up to face the prisoners, who were all sleeping, I could see. It WAS still morning, and when I glanced at the clock behind me, it read 8:42.  
  
"The other guy's pretty much the boss 'round here. His name's Bret Inglebert, and he's really nice once you get to know him. Friendly guy, but can't say he's the most normal..." Jerry leaned forward as if Bret were right there watching him, and whispered, "He likes to read, see? No problem there. But he gets a bit caught up in the stories if you know what I mean. You just wait 'til he gets absorbed in a book; it's hard not to laugh. Sometimes he repeats lines at random moments, but hopefully you'll get to see his expressions first..."  
  
A glimmer of a warm smile spread over my face, but I quickly wiped it off. I still wasn't sure about first impressions, but Jerry WAS really nice; made you feel right at home here.  
  
"Well," Jerry said, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair. "The prisoners get up 'round here at 9:15 to eat breakfast, then they go outside and do their work, then they eat lunch, and after that they play their football and what-not... Our jobs are to make sure they stay under control and stay on task. One toe out of line and it's back to the cell's with them; we are a bit strict. But hey, it IS prison."  
  
I nodded and let him continue.  
  
"Their lunch break is our lunch break, right? That's all we get free while the other guards step in. That's at 12:30. After the prisoners get themselves all worn out with their games and such (which we must look after as well), they go back to their cells. By that time, it's around 2:00, and we come back here," Jerry slapped his hand on his desk. "Then - we watch them 'til dinner, right? With me?"  
  
I nodded. "When's their dinner?"  
  
"6:15. Then we go home. It's really quite simple, you get used to the schedule after a while. We're expected to be at work by 9:00, and we go back home at 6:15. Easy as that. The night guys do their night shifts, the lunch guys do their lunch shifts... we do the daytime shifts," Jerry blabbered on. "First day on the job, ma'am, you can be my shadow. See how it's all done. It's really quite an easy, interesting job once you get it."  
  
"Yes sir," I sighed.  
  
"No need to call me sir... I get a bit repulsed with that formal stuff. I'm just Jerry, here," Jerry nodded, giving me another feeling of warm welcome. "Here," he said, pulling from his desk drawer, a belt, "-are your things. Handcuffs, baton, gun, the like." He handed me the belt with little hesitation, but I sensed it. He was a bit uneasy handing a woman such power.  
  
"No need to worry, sir- Jerry," I corrected myself quickly, lowering my eyebrows and nodding once politely. "I've been on a police force before and I can handle these things."  
  
"And I'm sure you can," Jerry said, but still with an uneasy tone of voice.  
  
The truth was, I had never held a gun before. But - I had never worn pants before as well.  
  
As I wrapped the belt around my waist, I thought to myself, Hey - if I can wear pants, I can sure as anything wear a gun.  
  
  
  
A/N: Thaaaat's all for now, folks! More to come soon! ENJOY! :) 


	6. Chapter Five

Monica sat down at her desk gratefully, exhausted. Checking the clock, it was 2:12. Thank God she only had to sit here and relax for four more hours. Jerry was wrong about one thing; this job was hardly easy. At least the first four hours weren't. As Jerry's shadow for the first day, Monica didn't think she would have to be doing much. She was terribly wrong.  
  
Right off the bat when they were let out of their cells, two of the prisoners started a brawl; right in front of the guards. Jerry had to tackle one to the ground even, while Monica and Bret shouted, shoved and pulled their guns, and after a bit of mayhem, she even got one of the two prisoners into a cell successfully. Jerry was ordered to take the rest of the prisoners out for their work with Monica, while Bret stayed and watched the two trouble-makers. That was only the beginning.  
  
While the inmates were working in the fields, Jerry caught one trying to break free of his restraint chains, and even went as far as having to hit the guy with his baton before he stopped freaking out. Monica was told to quickly take the man back to his cell and come right back to the fields, where Jerry would be waiting. On the way back to B block, the prisoner tried to take Monica's gun, but luckily she was quicker than the injured man, able to hit him again with her own baton, and take him serenely back to the cells.  
  
A few more accidents occurred over the course of the morning, and Monica was glad to return to her desk with the prisoners all locked up and safe.  
  
"Is it always like this?" Monica asked, leaning back in her chair and stretching.  
  
"Mostly," Jerry replied while writing something at his own desk. "Some days are worse, some days are better."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Didn't expect it to be like this?" Jerry asked, grinning as he looked up. "Too much for you?"  
  
"Hardly," Monica lied, grinning back, "I can't wait until tomorrow."  
  
There was a slam of a door as Bret appeared, tipping his hat to Monica and nodding towards Jerry. He was a tall, muscular man with a clean shave and hair cut short. Every time he set his shoe down, he reminded Monica of her father, with the heavy footsteps.  
  
"Hope you're all doing well?" Bret asked, stepping up to Monica. "Welcome to the team, ma'am."  
  
"Thank you," she said.  
  
"Fine work you did today," he commented.  
  
"Thank you," she repeated, but felt a bit uncomfortable at the compliment. She didn't need it.  
  
"I'm Bret if you didn't already know," he smiled. "That thing this morning distracted me from a proper introduction."  
  
"No problem," Monica answered, "Jerry already told me about you... I'm Monica Gilbert."  
  
"Yes, Jerry and Tim mentioned you were here," Bret said, his eyes laughing. He turned and strode off to his desk, taking random glances at certain prisoners as he passed, saying things like, "Afternoon, Joe," and "Nice day, Wes."  
  
Monica glanced carelessly out the window to the scenery outside. There was a stretch of dirt and a couple other buildings off to the side. The only thing that caught her attention was a guard who was heading towards his block. Taking another look, Monica thought the man looked like... Percy...  
  
"Bathroom break?" Monica said hurriedly, sitting up in her chair.  
  
"Sure, go ahead," Jerry said. "Bathroom's not very pretty in here; I suggest you head to the main building."  
  
"Thank you," Monica said, getting up and exiting the building. Even at her fast pace, when she made it outside, the man was gone. "Damn..." she said to herself, noting that the language around there was usually even worse than what she just said, and the word just kind of slipped out.  
  
Peering around, trying to figure out where Percy had headed, she found herself walking towards E block. She paused at the building and peeked through the window before entering. Nobody was there. Perhaps around the corner...  
  
Monica creaked the door open softly, her eyes darting from the only three prisoners in the place. One of them was sleeping, the other one that she recognized with the mouse, was busy playing with it on his bed, and the third was another recognizable one. The black man, and all he did was stare.  
  
She made her way warily down the mile, feeling that the quicker she walked, the faster she could get to the other side to where Percy might be. When she passed the man with the mouse's cell, he looked up.  
  
All he said was, "You that gal looking for Boss Percy, isn't that right?"  
  
"Mind your own business," Monica grumbled faintly, passing John Coffey.  
  
"Ma'am?"  
  
Monica stopped when she got to John's cell and peered at him through the bars. It was he who had said it, in his deep, rumbling voice.  
  
"Yeah?" she asked, lowering her eyebrows. Then she remembered that the prisoners on E block were the ones who were going to the electric chair... and also the ones that the guards were told to treat nicely. "Yes?" she corrected herself, letting her eyes slide back to normal.  
  
"He's a bad man, ma'am, a really bad man," Coffey said softly. Monica felt hot anger build inside her.  
  
"That's none of your concern," she said quietly, continuing on her way.  
  
"Ma'am?" Coffey asked, a little louder. The sleeping man stirred. Monica ignored him. "Ma'am, he were a bad man, but since you came by, he not as full of hate as before."  
  
Monica froze in her tracks. What was this guy playing at? She turned around and stared hard at him. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I feel something, ma'am," John said as Monica began to feel a little annoyed at the ma'am calling. "Ever since then, there's been something else. I dunno what it is, ma'am, I'm sorry. But it's not the bad he was, it's not the bad. It's good."  
  
By this time, Monica thought Coffey was completely nuts. "What are you talking about? Has Percy been acting strange?"  
  
"No ma'am," John replied simply. Hardly believing a thing he was saying, Monica turned to leave again. "It's strong," he added, softly as ever, stopping Monica again. This time she didn't turn around, though. "It's stronger than his bad. You did that to him."  
  
"Did what to him?" Monica asked slowly.  
  
"Pushed the bad away with the other something," John said, a bit confused at what he was realizing.  
  
"I have to go," Monica muttered, turning and heading back down the mile. She didn't want to be there any longer, and she wasn't sure why. The man was very odd... Before she stepped back through the door, forgetting about finding Percy, Monica paused. "What's your name?"  
  
There was a short silence before the man said as quietly as ever, "John Coffey, ma'am. Like the drink. Only not spelled the same."  
  
Monica nodded, but Coffey didn't see. "See you, John Coffey." And she closed the door behind her.  
  
  
  
A/N: Fun chapter? Liked it? Hated it? Tell me! More to come! :) :) :) :) :) 


	7. Chapter Six

A/N: Don't worry, Togemon - your Percy scene is next! :)  
  
  
  
Monica closed the door, turned around and slammed right into the guard she was looking for. She jumped back.  
  
"What the fuck!" he shouted, staggering back. When he met her eyes, he bit his tongue and ran his fingers through his hair, then straightened his hat. "I mean, uh..."  
  
Monica made motions with her lips as if to say his name, but it never came. Percy stared her up and down, slowly.  
  
"What are you wearing?" he asked as politely as he could, flabbergasted.  
  
"My uniform," she said casually, holding back a laugh that was gathering in her throat.  
  
"Your-...?" Percy stared, confused. "What were you doing...?" He pointed to the door of E block.  
  
"Oh, I was just... looking for..." Monica shook her head. The both of them seemed shocked to see each other there... again. She was the first to snap out of it, though. "I was looking for supplies."  
  
"Supplies?" Percy repeated, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Sure," she said as casually as she could, nodding thoughtfully. "They said I would find glue... here."  
  
"Glue?" Percy repeated faintly. Parroting seemed to be all he was up to doing right now.  
  
"Yeah," she answered. "El-...-mer's."  
  
Suddenly, Percy began to laugh, and not his normal cold sniggering. This was almost an embarrassed titter. Just seeing him smile made Monica grin sheepishly.  
  
"You work here?" he asked, just to make sure.  
  
"B block," she replied. "First day."  
  
He let out a few more laughs before regaining himself. "I gotta get to work, you know?" Percy stated, implying that he needed the door. He said this with only a little of his usual sarcasm. But even as little as that broke the moment.  
  
"Same," Monica sighed, stepping out of the way. She began to head back to her block when Percy called after her.  
  
"Don't-" he started. Monica turned around to see him in front of the closed door. He looked almost everywhere but into her eyes. "Don't, uh... You don't want to be around here anymore. Not right now, anyway," he said, taking off his hat and absentmindedly fixing his hair some more. "The prisoners... you know? They're dangerous here. We wouldn't want anything..." he bit his upper lip lightly before continuing. "Any accidents..."  
  
"I understand," Monica answered quickly. "I won't. I have to get back to my block." So she turned and left it at that. Not looking back, she walked back towards B block, hearing the opening and shutting of the door to E block.  
  
When she finally entered her own familiar work building and sat at her desk, Jerry seemed to be stifling laughter.  
  
"What? What is it?" Monica asked.  
  
"Got lost, did you?" Jerry asked.  
  
"Yeah," Monica replied. "Yes, I did... but I managed."  
  
"I see that you have," he retorted, flipping out a newspaper. Then, he motioned for her to come closer. "You want to see something funny?" he whispered in words barely audible, hidden behind his paper. He made her follow his eyes to Bret. Inglebert was out of his seat and bent over the pages of his book, which was propped on top of his desk. His knuckles were white from grasping his novel so hard, and the look on his face was absolutely hilarious. His eyes were wide, and if you looked close enough, you could see how fast he scanned each page.  
  
"Wallas's newest horror story. Came out yesterday, and the man's almost done with it! Looks like there's tons of suspense..."  
  
"'On the edge of your chair' is not just an expression anymore..." Monica muttered through her teeth. She had to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from laughing. Jerry spun around in his chair and tried to disguise his laughter as a coughing fit, trying to muffle his guffaws with his newspaper the whole while.  
  
And Bret didn't even notice. He just kept going on faster and faster until... he stopped.  
  
Monica and Jerry watched from behind the newspaper, wondering what had happened.  
  
Bret curled his hand into a fist and let it go, straightening up. He flipped a page back and forth, then threw the book down on his desk. "It's done," he murmured, shaking his head. "I have to wait... a whole 'NOTHER YEAR for the next one..."  
  
"Suspenseful ending?" Jerry suggested. Bret turned to him.  
  
"Hartidgen was kidnapped and the whole place was about to blow in thirty seconds, and... and... the clock ticked one second left, then... then..." Bret took a deep breath and lolled his head around for a few seconds. "Another year! A YEAR!" He closed his eyes for a moment of frustration, which made both Monica and Jerry duck behind the newspaper to hide their laughs.  
  
When Monica came up for air, she smiled sweetly at Bret.  
  
"Nice day, hmmm...?" she said breezily.  
  
"Yeah," Bret sighed. Looking to Monica, he added, "Yep... nice day for a friendly chat..." His eyes flashed towards the window, then back to Monica. She began to blush, then looked utterly horrified. Had she lost her job? But Bret's look said enough; he knew everything, but he wasn't about to fire her. She could tell by the mischievous twinkling in his eyes, so she just went back to blushing.  
  
And boy, was she glad that Jerry, too busy trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard, wasn't paying attention to her. Was. She. Glad.  
  
  
  
A/N: Thaaaaat was chapter... six! chapter seven if you're counting from.. umm... never mind. Ech - I WILL continue! Two chapters in one day... I'm on a role! A casse-role! Har har har. This is nowhere NEAR being done! (OH NO!) :) ENJOY!! (Hope you liked Percy's part, Togemon, even writing his first line made me burst out laughing at myself). :) :) :) :) 


	8. Chapter Seven

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks again, Togemon! And thank you Codi! My loving fifter! Man J, I want you to like dis chapter(the last part of it, anyway).  
  
MONICA  
  
After work yesterday, I met up with Percy, who said he had to get home, but could talk to me after an execution he was going to stand up front during today. He invited me to check it out; see what an electric chair does and all. I happily accepted. My second day on the job is done, I went home and ate dinner, and I'm ready to see this. I was curious as to what the guards did on E block, and this was my chance.  
  
It was raining, and a storm was approaching. The thunder and lightning seemed distant, but edging closer... as if the sky were trying to show the electric chair how it was done. I just hurried faster to the door of E block, huddled under my umbrella. I really didn't want to get my nice shoes too muddy.  
  
I entered the building, shaking off my umbrella before letting it come with me down the hall. All I had to do was follow the voices to the chamber in which the execution was to take place.  
  
When I quietly stepped through the door, people were still getting themselves situated. Those who were in front seemed grim, and I supposed they were the family that had suffered the consequences from the madman who was going to be killed tonight.  
  
I peered up at the roof, which seemed to make the thunder more threatening- sounding. With every sound from outside, the metal of the canopy vibrated. It also seemed to hold in the cold that was in the room. I could almost see my breath, so I decided to leave my coat on, sitting myself down in a seat next to the door. I didn't feel very in place sitting around all these sad people. They actually had a purpose to be here this night.  
  
When the guards came in with the prisoner, I remembered that he was the man with the mouse who had talked to me the day before. Everyone quieted down, and the lady in the front row shouted at him, saying that she hoped he was good and scared. he sure looked it.  
  
I recognized all the guards who entered the room, except for the one who went into the little room to the side. Percy was there as well.  
  
The clock read 9:57.  
  
Everyone got situated. Percy stood in front of the man in the electric chair and began to talk.  
  
"Eduard Delacroix, you have been condemned to die by a jury of your peers, imposed by a judge in good standing in this state," he recited. I stared at the ceiling. "You have anything to say before sentence is carried out?"  
  
The man muttered, but I was too far away to hear a word he said. I just waited for Percy to recite his next line after he took a sponge and helped put a mask over the dead-man-to-be's head.  
  
"Electricity shall now be passed through your body until you are dead in accordance with state law," Percy said loud and clearly once he was standing straight again. "God have mercy on your soul. Roll on two."  
  
The clock chimed once for ten of the clock.  
  
The man in the small room flipped a switch just as a great pounding of thunder sounded which made me jump. As suddenly as the thunder passed, the man in the chair began to jitter and rock with the current of electricity. Even then, I felt a little queasy, realizing that I would never want to do this to someone.  
  
I got up to leave silently and slip out the door, but it had locked once it was closed.  
  
It will be over in a couple of seconds, I thought to myself, no need to worry. Just a few more seconds and the man will be dead.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Monica stood in front of the locked door as people began to scream and knock past her, trying to get away from the shrieking man as fast as they could. The execution WASN'T over in a few seconds. This was lasting what seemed to be forever.  
  
She knew right away that this wasn't supposed to be happening. The guards had looks of panic on their faces, trying to calm everyone down but failing horribly. She didn't feel sick anymore than she had in the first place, which was strange as she watched women fainting and some even vomiting around her.  
  
The smell that accompanied the disgusting screams of the dying man was absolutely horrible, but Monica kept watching the scene. She watched the sickening man, she watched the guards running around, she watched the people freaking out, and she watched Percy.  
  
In that moment that she saw his face, she realized that it was he who had done something. He must have messed up pretty bad, and now he was looking at the prisoner as if he were thinking, "I'm in deep shit now!".  
  
Monica finally covered her ears to drown out the screams, just as Del slumped forward in the chair. A guard thrust a fire extinguisher into Percy's arms as a man hurried to unlock the door, too late as it was. She stepped courteously out of the way as people swarmed to get out of the building first, who were almost running the man down.  
  
The E block guards disappeared with the body of Eduard Delacroix as the last of the observers tumbled out the door. The only people left in the whole room now, were the man who had unlocked the door, and Monica. It was silent, except for the shouts of someone behind the other wall. They seemed to be singing...  
  
"Ma'am," the man said, sweaty and grossed out like everyone else. "What are you still doing here?"  
  
"I don't know, sir," she answered quietly, "I think I'm waiting for Percy Wetmore. What happened?"  
  
"Power surge," the man said, giving an exhausted sigh, "These things happen."  
  
"I don't think it was a power surge-" Monica started, but the man cut her off.  
  
"It was a power surge," he interrupted quickly. "Now I suggest you get home, lady, this is no place for you to be at the moment."  
  
Monica almost began to protest, but gave it up and stepped through the door, which the man slammed behind her. She stared at the ceiling and saw that the light bulbs had been blown out. She shivered and stepped outside, opening her umbrella. It was pouring harder than ever.  
  
She wasn't sure how long she waited until Paul Edgecombe stepped out the door which she was waiting next to. He didn't see her at first, but when he started to walk her way, he gave a small smile.  
  
"Is there something you need?" Paul asked, standing a polite distance away.  
  
"I was... waiting for Percy Wetmore," she replied. Paul frowned at her statement.  
  
"Aren't you that lady who came by here a couple weeks ago?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," was her answer.  
  
"You still looking for Percy?" he cocked his head to the side very slightly.  
  
"Actually," Monica said, shifting her weight to her other foot, "he wanted me to watch the execution. See; I work right-" she pointed towards B block, "-over there. I talked to him yesterday."  
  
"It's none of my business what you do," Paul said slowly, hesitantly. "But Percy - is in a bit of trouble tonight. And, let me say this... he may be a gentleman to and around you, that I'm not sure but am assuming. But he just proved himself to be-..." he stopped himself and stared at Monica with a concentrated look on his face for a second before continuing. "Be careful, okay?"  
  
"I believe I'm being so," Monica replied, blinking calmly up at Paul for a moment, but all the same he felt he had passed too far into the girl's personal life. He recognized this blinking thing as a womanly version of a stare down.  
  
"Good night, ma'am, I'm sorry for the inconvenience," he muttered, tipping his hat and walking off.  
  
That was when Monica decided that Percy wasn't coming out, so she just had to find him herself.  
  
She stepped back into the building of E block, glad that her umbrella has done it's job quite nicely. Monica left it at the door, tired of carrying it, and made her way down the main hall; what the guards called the green mile, trying to ignore the mad prisoner who was singing his heart out, not seeming to notice her as she passed with a light step. She walked right on by John Coffey, trying not to let her eyes wander into the jail cells, but instead follow the sound of male voices that were coming from down a stairwell.  
  
She only made the first step before one of the two men bounded up the stairs, and would have run her right down if she hadn't have shoved herself against the wall at the last moment. Monica had only to glance at his face to notice that he was rushing too fast to notice anything else but his destination.  
  
Monica rolled her eyes at the back of the man, and made her way down the remaining stone steps. The only one left in the room, and probably the only one left in the whole building besides herself, was Percy. He didn't realize Monica was there until she stepped down harder off the last stair.  
  
He looked in her direction, his face expressionless.  
  
"You mind telling me what happened?" Monica asked coldly, despite the fact that Percy looked totally stressed out. His eyes widened in anger, but quickly hid the rage.  
  
"Miss Gilbert, nothing happened. The man is dead, and that's what we were supposed to do."  
  
"I don't think that's what was supposed to HAPPEN, Percy-" Monica pointed.  
  
"It's all done," Percy raised his voice.  
  
"I always thought you to be a bit strange and heartless, but this-!"  
  
"You do not-!" he started, interrupting her.  
  
"I do not WHAT!? You told me that I could come and watch an execution, not a show of your ridiculous - childish - evil -!" Monica darkened, and so did Percy.  
  
"You do NOT have the right to tell me off for what you think I did!" Percy shouted.  
  
"Oh, I KNOW what you did!" Monica shouted back, "I SAW what you did, Percy! I saw the way you looked so guilty in front of that man!"  
  
"Ooh, and I thought you were different than those idiots I work with!" Percy raged.  
  
"Idiots, huh!? Well, I hate you, Percy Wetmore!" Monica growled. "I thought you were deeper than you looked, but OH did you prove ME wrong!"  
  
"And you know what!? I hate you too, and I always have! The only reason YOU came to work here was to annoy the hell outta me, just like you did in school!"  
  
"Oh, now we go back to SCHOOL matters, huh!?" Monica yelled. "I thought you were OLDER than that, you immature-!"  
  
"Don't get me started on YOU!"  
  
Monica had made her way across the room and the both of them were raving, all dignity forgotten. It wasn't hard for Monica to tiptoe high enough to stare Percy in the eye while they argued on.  
  
"You don't care about anyone or anything," Monica continued, "I bet your precious HAIR means more to you than everyone in the world combined! Well how do you like - this!" And she threw out her hand and messed up his slicked back hair so that random strands stuck up and fell over his forehead.  
  
Percy stepped out of range of Monica's hands, and shouted his protests. "You will not understand," he uttered madly, "How much I hate you right now!"  
  
"I think I have an idea," she replied hotly. She wondered how they had managed to trail closer and closer towards the far wall. She hadn't even realized that she had left the stairs. Monica was right in his face now. "I thought I couldn't hate you, Percy - I thought you might have changed from that immature little freshman you were when I first knew you!"  
  
"Well, even YOU can be wrong sometimes, then, can't you?" Percy sneered back. "Here's hate for you!"  
  
Then he kissed her.  
  
The wind howled, the room was cold, and there was silence.  
  
Monica pulled back in shock. Percy was shocked, too. She had a look of disbelief on her face. "Well here's my hate for YOU, batsard!"  
  
Then SHE kissed HIM.  
  
"I hate you," Percy gasped between parts of this new fight.  
  
"Same here," Monica growled, backing Percy into the wall, miraculously with nothing but her lips. "AND you're selfish," she was sure to add.  
  
This continued until a rather large crack of thunder snapped them back into reality.  
  
Then they went home.  
  
  
  
A/N: HAHAHAHAHAHA! Lookit what I've done! Don't flame me, plz Togemon (I dunno if you wanted that, sorry 'bout my assumptions if you liked it)- remember, this IS romance! J, how about that last line? Funny in all it's simplicity, eh? I want you to like that chapter, cuz I sure did! NO REGRETS! MORE to come! :) :) :) :) 


	9. Chapter Eight

MONICA  
  
I hadn't realized how much I've changed over the last three weeks until now. Think about it; only a month ago, my perks were filing my nails and listening to the radio. I only wore dresses, and I still had the reputation of "Little Miss Perfect". What now?  
  
I work at a prison, I have authority over men (even if they ARE just the prisoners), and I carry a gun. Not to mention, I wear pants, when I never even had to wear a pair of them to work in the yard. Hell, I've never worked in the yard before! Coming from a family where maids are a regular part of the household, I've never had to touch a bit of dust.  
  
I admit; I'm a little uneasy as to what my parents will think once I go back home. If I EVER return to my home. I left, only telling whoever was listening that I would be gone for a couple of days. I'm not ABOUT to come back any time soon. I love it here! I love working with Percy! I love WORKING! I like the fact that I'm earning something on my own, which is hardly enough to pay for hotel expenses. First thing I'm going to do when I get enough money, is move out on my OWN... around here somewhere. I know I could call up my parents and ask them for some cash, but do I dare? What will they say? I shouldn't call. I really shouldn't.  
  
And I won't. I've made up my mind.  
  
For a daddy's girl, I've suddenly grown so unattached...  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"You look tired," Monica teased, grinning over to Jerry, who was half asleep, propped up on his elbows at his desk. "Hard day of work? Prisoners too much for you?"  
  
"Never," he replied, trying to blink away the sleep. "My night job held me later than usual yesterday, that's all."  
  
"You work two jobs?" Monica asked.  
  
"Sure," he yawned. "It's a bit more work, but hey; makes me some money."  
  
"Jerry?"  
  
"Yeah?" he lifted his head slightly.  
  
"Why don't you go home early?" Monica suggested.  
  
"What?"  
  
"There's only a half hour left of work," she said. "I'll take the prisoners over to the eating hall and lock the doors up."  
  
"No, that's all right," Jerry said.  
  
"It's fine by me," Monica assured him. "I've got everything under control. You should go home and make some time to sleep, you're in no shape to go to ANOTHER job after this the way you are."  
  
"But all by yourself?" Jerry looked doubtful. "Bret left me to make sure-"  
  
"But Bret isn't HERE, is he?" Monica persisted. "He's busy with his meetings, he won't even know you left. I'll take care of everything, promise."  
  
He yawned again and sat back in his chair. "Okay, then. You're right, I guess. I should be more rested... See you tomorrow, all right? I won't need you to do this for me again." Jerry straightened and got up, grabbing his coat.  
  
"Tomorrow," Monica nodded happily, watching Jerry leave the building. "Yes," she sighed to herself. "I can't wait to take a visit to E block in..." she checked the clock. "...twenty four minutes!"  
  
So she waited, every minute passing like an hour. Finally, there was five minutes until she retired for the night, and she had to take the prisoners to the eating hall. Monica led them there safely, came back, turned off the lights and locked the doors.  
  
"Simple, really," she said to herself cheerily as she made her way towards E block. Peering in the tiny window, Monica could see some familiar guards chatting, and Percy was one of them. As she neared the door, she realized that the men hardly looked happy. They seemed more to be arguing.  
  
"Per-er-cy!" Monica called merrily from the door after swinging it open. Her interruption was much relieved by the guards other than Percy, but she just happened to have come in while he had been talking. Shouting. Right.  
  
"WHAT are you doing here?" Percy asked icily, sounding very much as if he had been stopped in the middle of something very important. "You shouldn't be here. Besides, I was busy."  
  
"Ha. You're cute," Monica muttered, rolling her eyes in Percy's direction. "I bet you couldn't go a day without getting mad at something, honestly! Maybe you'll calm down if you could come with me for a minute, so we could talk or something. Is that all right?"  
  
"Of course n-"  
  
"Of course," Paul interrupted Percy, drowning out his voice. "You want to talk with her. Because WE don't want to hear you," he said dangerously.  
  
Percy glared daggers, but Monica lost him his train of thought when she pulled his hat from atop his head and waved it in front of his face.  
  
"Cool down," she said sweetly.  
  
The other guards expected Percy to grab his hat back, or bat Monica's hands away, or at least make a comment or tell her to stop. But he didn't, and if anything, surprisingly, he relaxed his stiff posture. The guards' eyes could have been playing trick on them, though.  
  
"How does she DO that?" Dean whispered in Harry's ear, staring puzzled at what was going on.  
  
"Don't you have to get home?" Percy asked Monica, slightly annoyed.  
  
"If not more, there's no end to me, and I'm not ABOUT to leave with you looking so angry at everything," she answered, plunking Percy's hat back on his head. He gave a flicker of a smile. "There you go," she said proudly, noticing the quick change of his face, even if it didn't last long.  
  
Whispering so he wouldn't have to suffer for the comment later from the other guards, Monica leaned over and said in his ear, "Aren't you-"  
  
(ain't you sweet. Soft; like a girl)  
  
"-just so cute-"  
  
(purty)  
  
"-when you smile! If you did more often, you'd be simply irresistible!"  
  
Monica said this in good humor, pulling away to see if she had gotten Percy to crack another smile, but if he had changed at all after her statement, he was smiling less. At least, she noticed that his eyes had lost their faintly soft glow.  
  
"Percy?"  
  
"Let's go outside," he said quickly, taking her hand and pulling her towards the door, careful to meet nobody's eye. "I suddenly feel like talking after all."  
  
  
  
A/N: Ummm... More! More? How about it! :) :) :) :) :) 


	10. Chapter Nine

A/N: Thanks for the review again, Togemon! You're the only one who reviews this (besides my loving fifter, but she doesn't count), and I'm so glad you enjoy this story! I think this chapter may clear up a few things... I'm trying to make Percy as him-like as possible, so bear with me! This is really hard. :) :) :) :)  
  
Monica walked a few paces in front of Percy as they walked away from E block. He had insisted on it, as strange as it may sound. But once they were a distance away from any person who might be moseying around after dark, Monica stopped.  
  
"So?" she said, turning to face Percy.  
  
"So, what?" he asked.  
  
"I thought we were okay," Monica sighed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Will you stop answering me in questions? I'm saying it like I mean it! How simple can it be? I wanted to talk to you. You throw me off. Then you want to talk, and you have nothing to talk about. Don't you have anything to say about last night?" she glared at him sternly.  
  
"No..." Percy trailed off. "Why would I have anything to say about that?"  
  
"After last night, I thought we were OKAY," she repeated, emphasizing the word a little, trying to make him understand. "And then you act as if... you know... we never..." she shifted from one foot to the other. "WELL?"  
  
"Well...?"  
  
"Percy! What did it MEAN!? Why did you... if you don't... but did you?"  
  
"Now you're not making any sense," he said.  
  
"No, YOU'RE not making any sense! I didn't have control over you, when you... Argh, all I'm trying to say is; what were you THINKING?" Monica looked up to find the sky covered in heavy clouds. It was trying to rain.  
  
"What was I thinking? Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time, if THAT'S what you're talking about..." Percy replied.  
  
"What - you can't like me in front of people? Is that it? Afraid they're going to say something? Too good for me, Percy?" Monica's eyes flashed.  
  
"I TOLD you not to find me at work!" Percy growled. "I'm on duty when you're OFF, you know! I don't have the time!"  
  
"Yes, I think I get it," Monica said, gasping in mock realization, nodding as if she hadn't heard him at all. "You can only kiss me when there's no 'guys' around! You won't take a hint when I'm trying to get your attention around anybody! You don't want our lil' secret to get out? Too MANLY for that, hm?"  
  
"Monic-"  
  
"Oh, don't you EVEN start!" she raged.  
  
"Will you calm down!" Percy demanded harshly.  
  
"Not until you tell me what you were thinking!" she demanded back, poisonously. Her voice lowered to barely more than a whisper. "Was that the only five minutes you'll ever give me? Oh, but it can't be. I saw you smiling when I got close, back there. I've told plenty of times what I feel. Now it's your turn. And be truthful."  
  
Percy looked liked he was trying to find the right words. "I..." he began, but stopped there, deciding to start over again. "Really, I didn't think you'd want me to... um..." he let out his breath. "I don't know WHAT I was doing," he answered, "I've never done that before."  
  
"No doubt," Monica muttered, rolling her eyes.  
  
"I mean... not just the fact that it was unexpected, but the fact that I've never even thought of something like that... at least not realistically..."  
  
Monica raised here eyebrows.  
  
"You know what I mean; like actresses compared to your every-day normal lady-on-the-street."  
  
"Of course; realistically, there aren't any ladies-off-the-street with your high requirements. For such a difficult person to put up with as you, Percy, I think there's only one in a billion in the world who would EVER try to take a chance with YOU," Monica said sharply.  
  
"I guess so," he muttered under his breath.  
  
"Then is what I ever felt for you, stupid? Should I just leave you to become a hermit for the rest of your life? Because I'm sure as anything you're not going to find someone else if you keep acting the way you are!" Monica began to raise her voice again.  
  
"I don't hate you, all right? I don't. Is that good enough for you?" Percy grumbled quickly.  
  
"Are you kidding?" Monica asked, monotone. "You're going to have to do better than that."  
  
"I..."  
  
"Is it SO hard for you!?"  
  
"I'm getting to it, okay? It's on the tip of my tongue!"  
  
"Well you better hurry up and spit it out!"  
  
"Just-"  
  
"NO."  
  
Percy mumbled something to his shoes.  
  
"What was that?" Monica asked, almost enjoying herself. "Speak up!"  
  
"Fine - fine! I love you, all right? I admit it!" Percy said sufferingly. "Maybe I haven't forever, and maybe not just until I saw you again for the first time since high school those few weeks ago! I don't know! I've thought about it, but it just makes me frustrated! I think; what if she's just playing around? I'm joking myself! But, no! You never leave me alone, and you never did, and I only realized about three seconds ago that I DIDN'T want you to leave me alone! Because it's partly MY fault that I can't get you outta my head! Are you happy now?"  
  
Monica beamed.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"He says, "Fine - fine! I love you, all right? I admit it!" Brutal murmured, squinting to see in the dark from the window. He turned and grinned towards the other guards.  
  
"AHA!" Dean cried, holding out his hand to Paul. "Pay up!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"You knew all along," Percy gasped. "You just wanted me to say something!"  
  
"I guess I did," Monica answered thoughtfully. "Say it again, and I'll give you a treat."  
  
  
  
A/N: YAY! YAY PERCY! YAY MONICA! NOW, Togemon, NOW I think they're hooked up... I'm still not sure, yet - we'll have to wait and find out! :) :) :) :) 


	11. Chapter Ten

A/N: WOW, I lost my day-by-day pace on chapters! Well - I DO have a reasonable explanation which concerns Gollum and an open man hole, but that's getting off the point. Well, here it is! Chapter eleven! Or... ten... whichever way you wanna look at it! :)  
  
JERRY  
  
She sure is one of a kind, that Monica Gilbert. I mean; who's heard of a police-woman? It's pretty rare to find them around, I could anybody that. Especially a good-looking one. So I thought, hey - that guard she met must have been thinking the same thing as me. She's the only lovely lady around for miles; they're all in the city, so why not try for this one? I hadn't realize that they knew each other before.  
  
Monica told me that she and the guard that works on E block knew each other in school. She also told me that this job was her plot to get him to like her. Guess what? It WORKED.  
  
Yes, she's told me ALL her plans. I didn't think she would succeed in nabbing that obnoxious little guy's heart, but I underestimated her abilities. How she did it is a mystery to me.  
  
Lately, I've seen them together a lot; Monica and that guard. It's usually him that's waiting outside the door after work, but on occasions, I see Monica sneaking off to E block when she's supposed to be on duty.  
  
Bret knows she doesn't take the job seriously. I don't have to ask him to know what's coming... what's in store for Monica. If there's one thing Bret doesn't like, it's someone who doesn't take their jobs seriously, and it's obvious that Monica and the guard are distractions to each other. But it's only Monica that's working on his block.  
  
And only she can be removed from it.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Monica?" Bret peered across the hallway to her. The clock above his head read 5:53.  
  
"Yes?" she responded, glancing up from her book.  
  
"Will you step outside with me for a second?"  
  
"All right."  
  
Jerry eyed the two as they left through the door, where it was sunny outside. He knew what was coming, and knew Monica deserved it. She had been given too many chances, and now Bret was going to make her leave.  
  
"Too bad," Jerry muttered under his breath, "It would have been nice for her to stick with us..."  
  
Outside, Monica stood, looking guilty as Bret stood sternly across from her.  
  
"Yes, sir?" Monica asked as innocently as she could.  
  
"It has come to my attention," Bret started slowly, "That you have been lacking the attention to your work that I require here."  
  
"Have I?" Monica grumbled. "I'll try to stay on task from now on."  
  
"That's another thing I would like to talk to you about," Bret said. "I've given you many, many chances to stay here, Monica. This isn't the first time I've had to pull you outside. I'm beginning to think that this job isn't the best for you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Monica... you're still young and have plenty of opportunities ahead of you. And obviously, you feel that chasing men around is more important than your work," he explained.  
  
"I'll try harder to stay on task," Monica said hurriedly. "I will."  
  
"How many times will you say that before you finally mean it?" Bret asked.  
  
"Ummm..." she tried to think of something to say.  
  
"That's not a question you should answer," Bret said, smiling lightly. "I'm just implying that you have to be let go. Sorry, but that's the way it's got to be. You have much more than this to look forward to."  
  
"Yeah," Monica nodded, then shook her head, then half-nodded, half-shook her head, trying to make up her mind. "Yeah," she repeated, seeming to be thinking. Then she looked at Bret. "You're right, I guess. I can't deny that I've been nothing but in the way here. But, sir, if you don't mind, can I say something, now that I'm not going to be working here anymore?"  
  
"Go ahead," he said. Then he added quickly, "As long as it's not too vulgar." His realization of his lameness glowed like an aura.  
  
She gave a sympathetic smile; half to herself. "No, it's not. I just had to say that - guarding prisoners with you guys WAS pretty fun. Even though the inmates are a bit difficult."  
  
"Thank you," Bret replied. "I'm glad you liked it."  
  
"Yes," she sighed. "Fun while it lasted..."  
  
Of course, Monica took the news quite lightly. She had been expecting that talk. The last talk with her boss. But when Monica told Percy the news later that night, on the other hand, he hardly took it lightly.  
  
"WHAT!?" Percy raged. "Fired? YOU fired!?"  
  
"Calm down," Monica grumbled, eyeing the turned faces of a few prisoners who were being ushered to their dinner. "It's okay."  
  
"How can you say that?" Percy asked in astonishment, eyes flashing. "We can straighten this out," he concluded, making towards B block.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" Monica asked Percy, curiously.  
  
"I'm going to have a talk with that boss of yours," he said icily.  
  
"Oh NO you're not," she said as if he were the most ridiculous person on Earth, stopping him by the collar. "You don't think I can handle myself? I don't CARE about being fired."  
  
"Why not?" he asked.  
  
"Didn't you tell me once," she said simply, "That you were going to go and work at a mental hospital soon?"  
  
"So?"  
  
"So..." Monica rolled her head in an 'I can't believe you don't get it' sort of way. "You quit this job, and get one at that mental hospital. I could be a nurse or something! Simple."  
  
"What are the chances that there'll be an opening for a nurse at that place?" Percy asked.  
  
"Pretty high, Percy, if your connections-," she said 'connections' in quotes with her fingers, "-are as great as you SAY they are."  
  
"You've been planning this, haven't you?" Percy asked, monotone.  
  
"Oh, ever since Bret pulled me outside the first time to talk with me about my work... which was last week," she shrugged. "So do YOU want to quit this?"  
  
"Yeah," Percy said automatically. "The sooner the better."  
  
  
  
A/N: Well! Not much from this chapter; thanks Togemon, like always, for reading! The next few chapters will be more interesting, I promise. I think I have it all sorted out... If I'm boring you, please tell me, and I'll make the chapters better. ENJOY! :) :) :) :) 


	12. Chapter Eleven

A/N: Wrote an English essay, wrote a World History essay; hell, NOTHING is stopping me from writing this! :D  
  
Don't judge a thing  
  
Until you know what's inside it  
  
Don't push me  
  
I'll fight it  
  
You can't take me  
  
I'm free.  
  
~Bryan Adams  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Hey, Percy... The strangest thing... I made reservations for a dinner tonight with my wife, and remembered that she absolutely HATES the restaurant! She dislikes going out in public, anyway, so I was wondering... What am I going to do with that reservation for the finest place in town? Then I thought of you and that lady, and, well... Would you like them?"  
  
Percy peered suspiciously up into the warm-smiling, slightly nervous face of Paul.  
  
"What are you playing at?" Percy asked, lowly.  
  
"Playing? It's no joke. I need someone to go in our place, and who better than you and that girl that's always around?" Paul persisted.  
  
"Why don't you give the reservation to DEAN?" Percy retorted, glancing back into the mirror to comb back a couple loose strands of hair. "He's got a girl, you know."  
  
"Yeah, well I thought... since you were leaving soon to a new job anyway, your absence wouldn't mean as much as an absence of Dean's," the boss explained.  
  
Percy stopped his primping to glare at Paul, who was more nervous than ever; thank God the short, non-perceptive guard didn't notice. "Tonight?"  
  
"Tonight," Paul repeated, relaxing greatly. "Hope you enjoy. It's at Borticelli's; the only one in town, you can't mistake it, really. I put it under the name Edgecombe, if you're wondering. It's scheduled at eight; earliest time they had! Have a good time."  
  
Percy watched Paul turn and head back down the mile towards his office.  
  
"I did it," Paul said under his breath to the other guards, who were gathered in his private, little room. "He accepted the dinner."  
  
"GOOD thinking!" Harry sighed. "Lucky there were a few reservations left at that place."  
  
"Lucky Percy's stupid enough to go along with that dinner idea without becoming suspicious," Brutal muttered.  
  
"Lucky," Paul agreed, nodding once. "Now that we'll have Percy out of the way, there's only Wild Bill left. We can think of something to do with him, of course. Just as long as we get John out of here tonight, and without getting caught. Remember; Harry and Brutal with me, Dean; you stay and keep watch while we take John. If anyone comes by, you know what to say."  
  
"Right," Dean said.  
  
"I hope you know what we're doing, Paul," Brutal grinned.  
  
"I hope so, too," Paul answered.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Monica was bored in her little hotel room; running low on money and food and having a generally bad time. Not just that, but the light had flickered and died only minutes earlier, of all things, and she was sitting, not only broke and hungry, but in darkness as well.  
  
"If only I had enough money for a light bulb," Monica muttered to herself. "Or maybe a slice of toast; then I might be able to go to sleep." She was on the cheap, hard bed, staring at what she imagined was the ceiling when the phone rang, making her jump.  
  
"The phone works! My God, and I thought everything was broken around here!" Monica shouted sarcastically, reaching for the phone in the table next to her bed. In her blindness, she knocked over a clock before fumbling with the phone receiver, picking it up with a clear "Dammit!" as she stepped on a corner of the fallen clock.  
  
"Hello?" the other voice asked, not sure whether or not to believe this was Monica he was listening to.  
  
"Oh, Percy!" Monica cried, utterly delighted to hear his voice in her bad mood, deciding it would be safest to sit on the bed while she talked. "What sends you calling?"  
  
"I was wondering about tonight," Percy said. "I got reservations to this restaurant in town; want to have dinner with me?"  
  
"Would I EVER!" Monica half ranted, half shouted. "I've been having one HELL of a time here! I mean..." she took a deep breath and continued, sweetly, "Yes, dinner sounds lovely! I'm staying at a Renson Hotel here in God-knows-which place - I mean... Renson Hotel on 11th street on the corner, door number seventy-one!"  
  
"Great," Percy replied, "I'll be there at 7:30."  
  
"Wait," Monica said quickly, "What time is it now? The power went out in my room. I can't see the clock."  
  
"It's six right now," Percy said. "Will you be ready by then?"  
  
"You bet," Monica chirped happily. "I just need to get dressed up! Bye, then."  
  
"Good-bye," he said before the dial tone sounded on the other line. He put down the phone and turned the lights off in his house before closing and locking the door behind him. Percy had been preparing to go to dinner for an hour now; spicing himself up and changing out of those stupid work clothes.  
  
"I have an hour to find the Renson Hotel on 11th," Percy recited from Monica's directions, grabbing his car keys from out of his pocket.  
  
And for an hour he drove... getting lost and driving down dead-end roads, and the like. When Percy finally saw a sign that read "Renson" in front of a large building, he gave a sigh of content and pulled into the parking lot. Upon entering the hotel, Percy was noticed by an irritable-looking man from behind the front desk.  
  
"May I help you?" the irritable-looking man asked impolitely, as if Percy were the billionth person he'd seen walk through the doors that night.  
  
"Where's room seventy-one?" Percy asked.  
  
"Why do you want to KNOW?" the man behind the counter responded slyly, twirling his black, curled mustache between his fingers, which looked much unlike his head - bald.  
  
"I'm here to pick someone up, is that any of YOUR concern?" Percy retorted, catching his reflection in the man's forehead, noting that the guy was shorter than he was.  
  
"Why, it IS!" the man puffed, banging his fists on the counter-top. "That room number, and whoever is BEYOND that number is confidential information!"  
  
"I already KNOW who's 'beyond that number'," Percy said sarcastically.  
  
"WISE GUY, are yeh?" the short man puffed even more.  
  
"I can find it myself," Percy grumbled, checking the clock and heading down the hall of his choice.  
  
"Oh, no you don't," the irritable-looking man behind the counter objected, hurrying to block Percy from making his way down the hall, but became distracted when his mustache fell off. "Crap..."  
  
Percy left the man to search for his fake mustache while he hurried away to find room number seventy-one. He began to wonder if he had taken the wrong hall, when he turned a corner and came face to face with the door he was looking for. Straightening his jacket, he knocked twice.  
  
There was a crash from inside the room, and a muffled voice. Until Monica opened the door, he heard strange fumbling noises.  
  
Percy looked at Monica with a smile on his face; aside from looking a little ruffled, she looked more beautiful than ever in her soft-colored dinner dress and matching, pointed high heels, which, he thought, both looked great against her dark hair.  
  
"I'm ready," Monica grinned, grabbing a small purse and closing her door, quickly behind her.  
  
"Let's go this way," Percy uttered, pointing towards a back door. "That guy at the front desk doesn't seem very stable."  
  
"Don't mind him," Monica grumbled, rolling her eyes. "He's just a dunce."  
  
They made their way back towards the main desk, where the guy was still busily looking for his mustache, which happened to be stuck to the sole of his shoe.  
  
Everything was going perfectly, until about fifteen minutes into the drive when Percy remembered he had forgotten the name of the restaurant, and had written it down at the prison.  
  
"I just need to run back to E block," he said hurriedly.  
  
"You can remember the place," Monica suggested, urgently. "We may be late if we go back now!"  
  
But, no matter; Percy couldn't remember what it was called. So they turned into Cold Mountain Penitentiary, with Monica unhappily feeling starved the whole while.  
  
"You can stay in the car if you'd like, I'll only be a moment," Percy assured her as he parked right in front of the softly-lit block which Dean was supposed to be watching over. Later, it was discovered that he had gone to take a short trip to the main building's toilet because the one on E block was feared to overflow soon.  
  
"No, it's all right," Monica sighed. "I'll come with you. Help you find it quicker." She got out on the other side of the car and stepped to the pavement, running around the car to the door that was left open for her, as Percy had already made his way in.  
  
"Strange," Percy mumbled. "Nobody's here."  
  
"Hey. Hey, where's that John Coffey?" Monica asked, peering into the empty cell.  
  
"How'd you know that prisoner's name was..." he trailed off, following to where Monica's eyes had directed him. "Where did HE go?"  
  
Monica shrugged slightly, gazing around the dimly-lit room some more. "When you gotta go, you gotta go..."  
  
"Nevermind," Percy said quickly, heading down the mile towards Paul's office. "We can figure that out later. We have a dinner to get to."  
  
"Wait up," Monica called after him, clicking down the mile in her high heels. When she made it to the office, Percy was already searching through drawers and papers. "Find it?"  
  
"Uh... - huh," Percy answered for a yes, picking up a little slip of paper. "Borticelli's," he muttered. "Whoops."  
  
"Good, now let's go," Monica urged, turning smoothly and making her way back down the green mile. Percy turned off the lights and closed the door to Paul's office, following the girl.  
  
He knew he could have told her to step carefully; maybe a little closer to the middle of the mile. But as a habit of his own, and the fact that the two of them were rushing, the rule didn't seem to apply at the time. The problem is, prisoners don't notice what time of day they strike at, as long as they think they'll have a chance of winning. And the odds were not against Wild Bill.  
  
With shocking speed for an almost completely doped man, Bill shot his hands through the bars of his cell, reaching for the person he mistook for a guard.  
  
Monica gave a shout of surprise as two dirt-caked, sweaty hands grabbed her roughly and yanked her against the bars of the cell. She was caught in a stone grip; insecure, but deadly all the same...  
  
  
  
A/N: LONG chapter? BAD chapter? LIKE it? Want more? Is this called a cliffy? Hmmm... :D :D :D :D 


	13. Chapter Twelve

So am I still waiting  
  
For this world to stop hating  
  
Can't find a good reason  
  
Can't find hope to believe in  
  
Tell me, what would you say  
  
I'd say it's up to me  
  
Time won't make things better  
  
I feel so alone  
  
If this is worthless  
  
Tell me so  
  
What have we done  
  
We're in a war that can't be won...  
  
~Still Waiting  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Monica fought for breath as Wild Bill's arms clasped tightly around her neck and chest, drunkenly. He gave a light, manic giggle as Percy dove forward to relieve the girl from the prisoner, but he was stopped in his tracks by a warning stomp and a tighter grip on Monica.  
  
"Don't you move, there," Bill slurred warningly in Percy's direction. He froze obediently, not wanting to hurt Monica. "You just hand over your keys and I'll be out, thank you."  
  
The guard did nothing.  
  
"Limp noodle ain't gonna listen to me?" Bill asked warily. With that, he lifted his foot and pulled out a gun that had been hidden in his shoe for such an occasion. It was Paul's gun; when the boss had taken John Coffey by Wild Bill's cell, he was so distracted by the one hand on Coffey's arm, that he didn't notice the other sneak into his holster...  
  
"What the hell are you doing!? Don't TOUCH HER!" Percy gasped, wishing he had a gun on him as well, but instead imagined the gun that was stored away in a desk drawer some miles away.  
  
Bill held the gun to Monica's head by shifting his arms so that one was locked tightly around her neck and the other was free for him to do with as he pleased; like point a pistol. "You want to negotiate?" He jammed the gun roughly into Monica's temple, and she squeezed her eyes shut, not even daring to scream.  
  
"I don't have any keys on me," Percy said panicky, his breathing shallow. "Don't hurt her!"  
  
"Purty Percy's gonna do something about it?" Bill pouted mockingly. Then he grinned with a mixture of such malice and insane happiness, that it sent a shiver up the guard's spine, as adrenaline-rushed as he was at the moment. "Well?" he jabbed the gun harder, more threateningly.  
  
With hardly a moment's hesitation, too surprising for Bill to predict, Monica used the heel of her pointed shoe to kick back as hard as she could below the belt, and the short instant in which Wild Bill lurched forward in pain, she slipped from his grasp, collapsing to the floor below. He still held his gun weakly, and when Percy leapt to accompany Monica, Bill took a shot.  
  
And his aim was true.  
  
In an instant scene of confusion, Percy fell back by the force of the bullet, and Bill dropped the gun right there, dozing off at perfect timing; slumped against the bars of his cell. Monica gaped, wide-eyed in shock at what had just happened, unable to tear her horrified stare away from the fallen guard, who lay on his back, unconscious; blood spreading across his white dinner shirt.  
  
She forced herself to look away, and in a moment of extreme fury, took up the gun that Bill had dropped, and pulled the trigger; the remaining five bullets being emptied into the doped target. She seemed not to notice that the gun was out of ammunition, and kept clicking away, even though Wild Bill was already dead, blood pouring from his wounds and mouth onto the cement floor of his cell. It was amazing that Monica got herself to pry the pistol from her own fingers and finally fling it into a corner before shouting in contempt.  
  
"I hope you rot in hell! You twisted son of a b-..." her words caught in her throat as it knotted, and it suddenly became hard for her to see through her blurry eyes. Rushing to Percy's aid, falling to his side and hardly daring to touch him, Monica screamed for help as loudly as she could. But nobody came.  
  
"-SOMEBODY! COME QUICK, HELP HIM, HE'S DYING, GOD, SOMEBODY, COME! HELP HIM, HELP-"  
  
The door to E block burst open, and Dean rushed in, Monica's screams stopping abruptly. He stopped in his tracks and looked at the blood. He looked at Wild Bill. He looked at Monica, and Percy's torso in her lap. His mouth dropped.  
  
"The prisoner! He shot him!" Monica sobbed almost hysterically. "You have to help him, he's dying!"  
  
"Calm down, ma'am," Dean said faintly. "We'll call a medic..."  
  
"Dial the damn numbers!" she yelled, searching the place with her eyes for a phone.  
  
Dean rushed to Paul's office, and Monica heard him dial the hospital, and barely made out his conversation, picking up words like "emergency" and "ambulance". When he returned to the scene, he walked slowly, as if the others would disappear if he waited long enough.  
  
"They're not going to make it in time," Monica muttered, her eyes filling with tears again. "We can't do anything for him."  
  
Dean didn't reply.  
  
All they could do was wait.  
  
  
  
A/N: I had to make this chapter w/o you, Toge! But that's all right, I'm sure you liked this chapter! Right? Ummm... more to come! I predict maybe two or three more chapter! The end of Percy? We'll just have to wait and find out. :D :D :D :D :D 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

A/N: I'm half-starved and cranky, but I'm not going to eat until I finish this chapter! That's how devoted I am. I can't wait any longer. The only reason I had a delay in the first place, was because of endless homework! Nothing to do with my Gollum this time, sorry Toge. Enjoy!  
  
I don't care what they think  
  
How they feel, or what they say  
  
You're everything I ever knew  
  
I always want to be with you  
  
I've been warned so many times  
  
They tell me I've ignored the signs  
  
But nobody knows you like I do  
  
The only one for me is you...  
  
~Celine Dion  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Time was frozen.  
  
All was silent except for Monica's gentle, inaudible words that she uttered through almost controlled sobs. Dean didn't say a word. He felt sorry for her, but inside his head he was putting together death puns for Percy.  
  
"He was trying to help me," Monica muttered to Dean after the longest time of talking to Percy, alone. "He - he was coming to pull me away from that inmates cell, and... and he - he - he-" she took an unstable breath and continued. "I thought the prisoner was going to kill me, but in an instant, the tides changed and I suddenly wished that I hadn't have kicked him... I wish I had stayed put, I don't want this..."  
  
Dean nodded absently, uncomfortably.  
  
BAM.  
  
The door burst open and the remainder of the guards shuffled inside.  
  
"Hey, Dean, how'd it-" Brutal stopped as he looked at the scene. "-go..." he trailed off.  
  
"What happened here?" Paul demanded, letting go of the arm of John Coffey who was hiding Harry. He poked his head around Coffey and dropped his jaw. All the guards stood silent for a moment. "Why is this girl here?" Paul continued, "Who is that she's got there, bleeding? Where's Bill?"  
  
Dean took off his hat and wrung it in his hands, seeming to think before he answered slowly. "Sir... I'm not sure why she's here, and that's Percy. Sir, Wild Bill's dead."  
  
"Dead!" Paul exclaimed. "And why's Percy here?"  
  
"From what I've got, Bill shot him," Dean replied, quietly.  
  
"So who killed Wild Bill?"  
  
"I'm not sure, sir."  
  
"Ma'am?" Paul approached Monica, who held onto Percy like he was going to float away. "Can you tell us what happened?"  
  
"He's dead; I killed him because he shot Percy. Percy's hurt; he needs help," Monica said disconnectedly in her rush for words, even quieter than Dean.  
  
Paul noticed that the girl's hands and dress were covered in blood. "That's not yours, is it?" He indicated the gore.  
  
"Percy's," Monica whispered. "Is he dead?"  
  
"Percy?" Paul surveyed the dying man, noting that his chest was faintly moving up and down, a motion that Monica failed to notice in her panic. "No; no he isn't."  
  
"Oh, good; good; good, God," she pulled Percy even closer to her; probably the closest she'd ever been to him. "They're not going to come in time... He's going to die in a few minutes and they're not going to make it."  
  
"Who?" Paul asked.  
  
"I called the medic," Dean said.  
  
"Oh..."  
  
"Boss?"  
  
Harry jumped slightly as Coffey talked, not realizing he was standing right next to him; the big man had been so silent.  
  
"John," Paul nodded to Coffey to continue.  
  
"I could..." he started, then tried again. "If I did..." he trailed off and looked for words.  
  
"Now stop being ridiculous," Paul whispered to John harshly, realizing what Coffey was trying to say. "You haven't coughed up the last one! You can't save Percy, you don't have enough energy in you!"  
  
Monica's head jerked up and she went perfectly silent, staring at John and Paul with rapt attention. Paul didn't feel her stare.  
  
"Boss... for the lady..." John said.  
  
"No," Paul shook his head. "I wish you could, but, John! You'd d-"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Monica demanded, her voice rising. "What the hell are you doing? Why are you mocking me!?"  
  
"Ma'am, calm down-"  
  
"No!" Monica interrupted Paul. "How DARE you! And - calm down! Oh, you want me to CALM DOWN!? Damn, I wish I could, but as you can plainly see, it's a little late for calming down! I've been trying to calm down for ten minutes now; you want me to calm DOWN!?" Her voice reached a climatic point, and the guards wondered if she was fighting back something more than a sickening shriek they dreaded to hear.  
  
"Ma'am," Coffey said as Monica was beginning to go mad with all the ma'am talk again, "Ma'am, I can help," he assured her before Paul could stop him.  
  
"You can help WHAT?" Monica asked faintly.  
  
"I can help him. If you let me," Coffey answered. He seemed to be going against his own morals; as if he really didn't want to save Percy. Which was true. He only wanted to help for Monica's sake; he knew she was good.  
  
"What - how - what do you..." Monica gave up and just stared quizzically at John. She took a small breath and talked slowly, softly. "Please. Please, help him if you can. I believe you, okay? I believe that you can help him. I would believe anyone; everyone; just save his life..."  
  
"I can do that," John nodded, parting a way through the guards. Paul looked fearful, but held his ground. "I can help him for you.  
  
There is still time..."  
  
  
  
A/N: Short chapter, but my sis wants me off da compy. Thanks, Toge, for your support and all! ENJOY! :D :D :D :D 


	15. Chapter Fourteen

A/N: Thanks for all your reviews, Toge! I'm really glad you've stuck with me so far! I'm sorry to say, there may only be a couple more chapter left (have I already said that?), anyway... I have yet to talk, though! :D  
  
"John..." Paul started, faintly. He was lost for words from then on, and just waited and watched as the big prisoner made his way to perform his miracle task once more.  
  
Monica's eyes were wide as she stared up at John Coffey, who approached her with such silence and carefulness for one as large as he that she thought the man was almost gliding across the floor.  
  
"What are you going to do?" she asked the man who stood above her at such a towering height.  
  
"Save his life," John replied simply. "That's what I can do."  
  
No questions asked, Monica let the inmate stoop beside her and trail his eyes to where her right hand was pressed to slow the bleeding of Percy's wound. She took her hand away cautiously, as John's replaced it.  
  
Paul, Dean, Harry, Brutus and Monica all watched, their eyes transfixed on what was forming about them.  
  
The greatest look of concentration came over John's face as he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, muttering words only Monica could hear from her close distance.  
  
"I can feel it, it's right there, I've almost got it," John sighed as if he were a mechanic replacing parts to a car. "I can feel it just there." His hand gripped the wounded area tighter and Monica feared for a moment that the man was going to kill Percy instead of heal him, and then the lights began to flicker...  
  
"What's happening?" Monica mouthed, but no words came as John never loosened his death-grip, and Percy started to tense, and the lights were flickering madly, and everyone looked glassy-eyed and suddenly...  
  
Something stopped, and something started; then John pulled his hand away. Sweat rolled down his forehead in beads as he staggered back to make room and gasp in exhaustion. While the guards accompanied him, Percy stirred in Monica's lap.  
  
Her jaw dropped. Under the blood, there was nothing. Not even a bullet.  
  
"He saved him, you saved him, he saved you," Monica sobbed in a mixture between talking to herself, to John and to Percy. "Oh my God, this can't BE..."  
  
Percy blinked and stared up at Monica, confused as to where he was.  
  
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE ALIVE!" Monica shrieked, and in a second, she was smothering him.  
  
"What - are - you - doing!?" Percy was able to utter through kisses. "You're crazy!"  
  
"PERCY, you're alive, you're alive, you're alive!" Monica cried, throwing her arms around his neck. He started to gag. "I never thought you'd live after that, I never thought the medics would come in time, I thought you weren't going to survive, I never thought I'd talk to you again or hear your voice or anything, oh Percy!"  
  
"Oh, Monica! Get off!" Percy struggled out from under Monica, which was a very hard job, indeed. "What's come over you?" he panted.  
  
"You'd been shot!" Monica breathed wearily.  
  
"Shot!?" Percy looked around in confusion for a second, then looked down at himself, covered in blood. "Ahhh! Some crazy sonofabitch's shot me!" He began to panic.  
  
"No, no, no!" Monica said hurriedly. "You're all right!"  
  
"I've been shot, how can I be all right?" Percy asked faintly while staring down at himself and really looking about to faint.  
  
She opened her mouth to answer the truth, thought twice about it, then took a great sigh. "A mere flesh wound," she said. "It's not as bad as it looks, obviously. You were knocked unconscious, and we fished the bullet out."  
  
"Well, thank God," Percy grumbled. "Who did it?"  
  
"Um..." Monica seemed to be deciding an answer. Then she pointed to a gory carcass in the corner of one of the jail cells.  
  
"Whoa..." Percy seemed to be remembering what had happened, just very slowly. "Who did THAT?"  
  
"Me," Monica mouthed, but the guilty look on her face could have told him just as easily.  
  
"Monica? You?..." Percy put a hand to his forehead as if to check his temperature for a dilusional warmth, but all he came back with was a hand drenched in cold sweat.  
  
"Don't make this any harder," she grumbled. Then her eyes began to shimmer as the corners brimmed with tears. "And I thought - I thought - Percy! Don't you care that - you would have - you could have -"  
  
"It was just a flesh wound," Percy replied calmly as Monica leapt into his arms gently, now acting as if he were the most fragile thing on the planet.  
  
"I love you," Monica said tearfully, comfortingly against Percy's healthy rising and falling chest. "Never, ever, ever go."  
  
"Likewise," Percy sighed into a bunch of Monica's hair which he believed to be covering her ear, then stared up at the ceiling while she cried her eyes out as women often do during what she thought to be happy situations such as these; something he would never understand. But if it was what Monica wanted, then fine by him.  
  
It didn't take long for him to get the idea of her comfort before he instinctively held her while she continued to cling to him.  
  
While the two of them shared their moment, the guards were busy trying to assist John, who had not successfully made it to his jail cell and was against one wall, fighting for breath. In the one moment that Paul looked to see that everything was all right with Percy and Monica, Harry tapped him on the shoulder. He looked to his co-worker.  
  
"John's breath is slowing," Harry whispered. "He's not going to make it through the night. That last one really did it..." No sooner had he said this, when John took several short gasps, then went still. The guard's eyes were frozen in shock and sadness.  
  
"No. Oh, no..." Paul placed his fingers on Coffey's neck, and the realization landed him with something that felt like a punch. "He's..."  
  
Brutal, Harry and Dean crowded around as Paul tried to finish his sentence. Monica had looked over to see what was happening, and saw for herself. Her hand over her mouth and her eyes filling with fresh tears, she saw, and she knew.  
  
John was dead.  
  
  
  
A/N: Thaaat's all for now, Toge! Tell me how you liked it! There's more to come. I dunno if you liked the fact that there wasn't an execution - I thought John's death was better this way, dun ask me why. Please gimme feedback! Merry Christmas! 


	16. Chapter Fifteen

A/N: Again without you, Toge! I couldn't wait any longer... so, yeah. Here's the next chapter. :)  
  
If we could remember  
  
The power of the light  
  
That crippled prayers  
  
Are sometimes answered  
  
And hope survives the night  
  
Suddenly there's beauty  
  
In pieces of the past  
  
And sorrow clings  
  
To angry questions  
  
The days are dust at last...  
  
~Sum of All Fears  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Percy," Dean growled under his breath thoughtlessly as a spur of the moment accusation for John's sudden death. Percy, on the other hand, not thinking about how people can act at times like these, stiffened noticeably. Monica tightened her grip on him as a warning to ignore Dean.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Paul replied. "It's not his fault John's dead. If the blame were to go to anybody other than Coffey himself, it would be Wild Bill; he was the only one that did something wrong here."  
  
"Why'd we let him go through with that one! We knew it would be too much," Brutal said, shaking his head at John's lifeless body.  
  
"Because," Paul answered, "He... That's what he was put here to do. He just died saving one more life. I'm sure that's how he would have wanted it, more than the electric chair at least. He wanted out of this world, no matter how it happened. And, I guess... I bet he knew..." he trailed off.  
  
"What are we going to say about this?" Harry whispered, taking in all that had happened.  
  
"Oh God, what will they do with me?" Monica rasped to Percy. "I killed the man!"  
  
Overhearing, Paul replied quickly with some of the old authorization his voice. "We'll think up a story, ma'am. We don't need you getting into any trouble because of this, but..." he took a quick glance at Wild Bill. "The story's got to be simple. To the point. Has nothing to do with the lady shooting the prisoner..."  
  
As Paul talked on about the story they would follow when questioned about Wild Bill and John Coffey's deaths, Monica breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to Percy, who was listening faintly to what Paul was instructing. He turned his full attention to him once he was addressed by name.  
  
"Percy," Paul said, speaking to him directly for the first time that night.  
  
"Yes?" he breathed, picking himself off the floor. Monica followed.  
  
"You're to go along with our story, you hear? It'll save your skin as well as the rest of ours," Paul instructed.  
  
Percy looked like he was making a hard decision, while Monica shook him.  
  
"Percy - you have to tell your uncle the story. Don't get anyone fired, all right? We'll leave tomorrow. We'll leave to that Briar Ridge place, okay?" Monica stared hopefully at him.  
  
"Fine," he replied, though to Paul, after a pause. "You just be glad that I AM going to tell it, too. I'm not going to be working here, anyway."  
  
A hard look came over Paul's face, but it calmed quickly. "You okay?"  
  
"Feeling aces," he retorted.  
  
"Let's go," Monica said to Percy.  
  
"To dinner?" he asked.  
  
"No. Home," she replied.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Paul Edgecombe?" Monica said, and Paul looked at her. "Thank you for covering up for me."  
  
"No problem," Paul said, tipping his head. "You two are best to be leaving, now. Save your story for the governor." With that, he gave Percy a look. Percy stared back. "Have a nice life, Percy. You are relieved of your work here."  
  
"Yeah, thanks," he said absently, running his hands through his hair a few times.  
  
"C'mon," Monica said, tugging on Percy's sleeve.  
  
The two of them walked down the mile and out the door - they never looked back, or went through that door again. "Good-bye, John Coffey," she whispered to the giant as she caught a last glimpse of his limp and peaceful body against one wall. "You did not die in vain."  
  
  
  
A/N: HA HA! You MAY THINK that's the end, but it isn't. Next chapter the last? Perhaps. Maybe two chapters, I haven't decided that, but no more than two, I can assure you. :) 


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Finale

A/N: Brand new chapter! Last one. Thanks you guys, your reviews meant a lot! Twist here. You may get mad.  
  
Let us die young  
  
Or let us live forever  
  
We don't have the power  
  
But we never say never  
  
The music's for the sad man  
  
Forever young  
  
I want to be  
  
Forever young  
  
Do you really want to live forever?  
  
Forever young.  
  
~Forever Young  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
PERCY  
  
Parallel universe: What might have happened if one thing were changed. For instance, the presence of a girl on the mile.  
  
Collected thoughts, even in this state of mind.  
  
Memories.  
  
Power.  
  
Love.  
  
Wake up and see reality; none of this ever really took place. It didn't happen this way. I must have imagined the whole story; created it in my mind; it was so real! Monica, Monica, she has to be real, she's so complete, so whole, so dimensional. I look on this thing as if I were reading it, seeing it so clearly in my head. But I know and I dread. Why can I not awaken from this alternate reality?  
  
No Monica. I don't even know if she's real. Everything is real. Even if she is in my imagination, I will love her. My own creation, if she is, I will love her. Don't all madmen love their creations? Mine is fantastic. Mine. Her. She is mine.  
  
Visions of the past haunt me. Echoing gunshots. Won't go away. Monica. Don't leave.  
  
Were you ever reality? Were you always just a delusional character? My fantasy has a happy ending. Over and over it plays through my head. And drives me even more insane.  
  
I love her. I love her.  
  
I love her.  
  
Don't go away, Monica. Whatever you do, wherever you go, whatever, whoever you are. Stay with me. You are my one companion in this. Only you can bring me back. Or push me further.  
  
I killed William Wharton. Not you. And now I must pay.  
  
So real.  
  
I was never loved. You're killing me.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
One sunny day, a young nurse stood outside the door to one of a mental hospital's chambers. She had been drawn there. She remembered the man who lived in this room as one of her childhood playmates and had come to him. She was supposed to be serving food to the other patients, but they would have to wait. This man had arrived the day before, and she knew she had recognized him from somewhere.  
  
She stared out the window, then to him. He too stared out the window, but unmoving. He never blinked. He was like stone.  
  
She smiled ever so slightly, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes. Glancing down the hall to make sure no other nurses were patrolling, she slowly stepped in front of the man and stared at his glassy eyes.  
  
And she stayed that way for a long time.  
  
She raised a hand softly and brushed his face. He didn't do a thing.  
  
"I dreamt of you," she whispered. "What a sad one to wake from. I dreamt I worked with you. I saved your life. I was loved. Funny thing, you know. I never fell in love with a dream."  
  
When the man did nothing, the nurse sighed and smiled, sympathetically this time.  
  
"Dreams are only dreams, after all. They're not to come true," she said. She headed for the door, then turned around for one last glance at the man who had so recently lost his mind. He didn't even know she was there.  
  
"Have you dreamt of me?" the nurse asked softly, her voice so quiet. "Maybe we're soul mates, and we were meant to be... And something messed us up in the end. Maybe my dream is what was supposed to happen? But... I guess, in the end... We both ended up here anyway. Perhaps the strands of reality have intertwined, and here we both are." She paused and closed the door behind her, staring through the little window.  
  
"I guess this is how the story ends; in this despairing way. Everything is so good in the beginning. And it may be wonderful all up to the very end. But the very end is all that counts. And that's the way of the world. Goodbye, dream love. This is our final parting."  
  
And as the lady walked away, a man skimmed reality for one brief moment, his only proof were the tears that stood in his eyes.  
  
The last tears he would ever shed.  
  
FINIS  
A/N: I'm done, and wasn't that weird? Different from all the rest of the chapters; you might complain but I'm NOT changing it! That's the way it is. Thank you for reading; I love you guys! :D 


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